


ON THE SUBJECT OF FIREWORKS

by Wolfiekins



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2696747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfiekins/pseuds/Wolfiekins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merry and Pippin have difficulty agreeing on how to best enjoy Bilbo's 111th Birthday Party.</p><p>WARNINGS:  Adult Situations & Language, AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	ON THE SUBJECT OF FIREWORKS

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Lord Of The Rings and all associated characters and settings remain the intellectual property of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien, Warner Bros, New Line Cinema and associated entities. No offence intended nor monies made through this presentation.

**__**

 

**__**

 

 

Pippin peered through the narrow gap in the tent flaps, pulling them apart to gain a better view.

"What are you staring at now?" Merry asked after a time, the slightest hint of annoyance entwined in his words.

"Gandalf. He's just headed off with another armload of fireworks," Pippin replied absently, craning his neck to poke his head outside the tent for an instant before drawing it back in.

"Really?" 

Merry jumped up from the pile of blankets they'd been lounging on. He propped his chin on Pippin's shoulder, trying to take his own look through the tent flaps.

"I don't see him," he groused.

"You just missed him," Pippin insisted. "He'll be busy for awhile. Now's our chance."

Merry made a rude noise. "We've got plenty of time. The display's just started. Let's stay here a bit longer."

"Well.....oooooh, look at that!" Pippin exclaimed suddenly. "They've put out the desserts!"

"Come on, Pip," Merry whinged, snaking his arms about his cousin's bare torso. One of his hands drifted up to caress Pippin's chest. He leaned in nibble on an Pippin's earlobe. 

Pippin took a tiny step backward, pressing into the embrace.

"Bless my soul," Pippin giggled, "Sam's actually dancing with Rosie! Didn't know there was enough ale in the whole of The Shire for that much bravery! Old Bilbo sure knows how to throw a party!"

Merry slowly swayed his hips to and fro, brushing gently against Pippin's bum.

"This is more fun than shooting off some pinched fireworks, innit?"

"Well, yeah, sure," Pippin murmured, "but I had my heart set on that. We can always do _this_ later."

Merry sighed, ceasing his ear ministrations to rest his cheek on Pippin's shoulder.

"If you don't want to, Pip, I understand."

"Don't talk like that. You know I do."

"Could've fooled me."

"Merry—" Pippin paused, sighing loudly. "It's just—"

"Just what?"

"It's just that I never dared think that you felt this way."

"I do."

"I know."

"So?"

Pippin carefully placed his hands over Merry's. 

The sounds of music, laughter and spirited conversation filled the air outside the shabby little supply tent. A cheer rose up from the crowd, followed by the telltale cracks and pops of Gandalf's magical fireworks.

"Pip," Merry prodded gently.

"What?"

"Look at me."

Pippin slowly turned around, his gaze immediately locking onto Merry. 

Merry reached up, running a hand over Pippin's cheek, sucking in a deep breath at the depth of emotion that he saw in his cousin's eyes.

"You know how I feel,” he said. “If you don't feel the same way, just say so. No harm done."

Another set of whooshes, cracks and pops followed by more applause. Pippin blinked, smiling crookedly.

"Well, what would people say? I mean, really. A Brandybuck and a Took."

Merry grinned, pressing against Pippin, holding him tightly.

"Sticks and stones," he whispered, brushing his lips against Pippin's.

They kissed gently, two sets of hands tentatively exploring each other's smooth, bare skin.

Pippin pulled away first, burying his forehead against Merry's shoulder.

"I can just hear your mum."

"She likes you, Pip."

Pippin chuckled. "Wouldn't wager a single pouch of stale pipe weed on _that_ sentiment holding up after she found us out."

Merry harrumphed. "Probably right there."

The sounds of the party goers died down noticeably. 

Merry peered outside, standing on his tip-toes to see over Pippin's curly brown locks.

"Uh-oh. Gandalf's heading back to his cart. And Olo's with him."

Pippin's head popped up. "Proudfoot?"

"The same."

"Git."

"To be sure."

Pippin sighed, stalking over to the corner of the tent. 

Merry looked over his shoulder as Pippin flounced down on their pile of blankets, leaning back against the mound of storage crates. Merry shrugged, turning back to observe the activities outside.

"Uh-huh. Olo's cornered poor old Gandalf. Jabbering away like there's no tomorrow."

He pulled the tent flaps open the slightest bit more.

"And now Gandalf's sitting down in the back of his wagon—yeh! He's pulled out his pipe. They could be there for quite awhile."

Merry watched a moment longer before he let the flaps fall closed.

"Might as well get dressed and grab some of the Gaffer's ale. I'm parched. What do you say?"

Merry turned about, slightly surprised to find Pippin grinning up at him, one of his cousin's hands perched just above the crotch of his breeches. Pippin licked his lips while his other hand drew lazy circles across the centre of his bare chest.

"What?" Merry asked, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

"Come here."

Merry blinked. "But I thought you wanted—"

"I wanted to see some fireworks," Pippin replied evenly. "Don't need to go outside for that."

Merry grinned, quickly moving across the small space. He knelt down, his knees straddling Pippin's thighs. He hesitantly pressed his arousal against his cousin's, the sensation instantly dizzying. Any thought he might have entertained about the foolhardiness of such activity was immediately dissipated by Pippin's unmistakable moan of pleasure. Merry lowered himself further, the flushed, sweaty skin of their chests touching together. 

Pippin reached his hand up, running it through Merry's hair. His breathing had become harsh and rather ragged.

"I think we have a bit of time," he said in a most provocative manner.

Merry smiled. "You sure?"

Pippin nodded. "Just don't forget about our appointment tomorrow."

Merry's brow knitted together. "Appointment?"

Pippin rolled his eyes. "With Farmer Maggot?"

Merry's eye flew wide.

"Mushrooms!" they exclaimed in unison.

Another _whoosh!boom!_ of fireworks erupted outside as they kissed once more, the pair embracing each other tightly as they settled down on the pile of warm blankets.

 

 

**_~fin~_ **


End file.
